“What’s wrong?” she screamed, managing to remove the plastic mask from her face.
The paramedic attending her replaced the mask and pushed her back down onto the gurney, telling her that her mother and daughter were fine. Then she heard gunshots and immediately raised herself up again, just in time to see her husband fall to the ground. She ripped the mask from her face and tried to get up, but the paramedic shoved her back down and stuck a gun in her face.
Rachel screamed as she rolled off the gurney onto the floor of the ambulance. There were more gunshots with blood splattering everywhere inside the ambulance. The bodies of two paramedics dropped beside her, one of them pinning her arm to the floor.
Gunfire continued outside the ambulance for several more seconds. When it stopped, Rachel drew her arm out from under the lifeless body and scrambled out of the ambulance to find her husband who was lying unconscious on the ground. He’d been shot in the shoulder and was being lifted onto a gurney by one of Hap Greene’s men and another man she’d never seen before.
“We need to get you to a hospital,” said the man she’d never seen before. He motioned to another ambulance that was coming up the driveway. “Your husband’s got a minor shoulder wound and a nasty bump on his head, but he should be fine. Your mother and daughter are already on their way to the hospital. They’re fine. Just suffering from a little smoke inhalation and a few bruises like you.”
“Who are you and what happened?” Rachel said as she walked beside her husband’s gurney, clinching his hand.
“Sorry, ma’am. Special Agent Frandsen, FBI,” he said. “I think you know Johnson here.”
Rachel nodded as she acknowledged Hap Greene’s man who was keeping pressure on Darrin’s shoulder to reduce the bleeding.
“The crew of paramedics that arrived after the fire broke out weren’t real paramedics. They tried to kidnap your mother when Hap Greene and your husband intervened.”
She felt dizzy, almost losing her balance as they loaded her husband into the ambulance.
“Get this woman a gurney,” Special Agent Frandsen shouted as he grabbed Rachel around the waist to keep her from falling.
Rachel began losing consciousness as scenes of an apocalypse ran through her mind. How had things gone so terribly wrong? Where’s my daughter? Mother?
As the paramedics loaded her into the ambulance, Rachel began coughing uncontrollably, throwing her body into convulsions.
“Will we ever be safe again?”
61
Wilson — Bailey Island, ME
Wilson woke up bathed in sweat. He immediately looked at his watch. It was fifteen minutes after five o’clock in the evening. They’d slept for more than three hours. Montsweag’s would be closing in fifteen minutes. Wilson bolted down the stairs to the pay phone on the wall outside the marina store. It was raining hard.
After punching the numbers into the pay phone, he heard a woman’s voice, “Montsweag’s Whale Watching and Sightseeing Excursions.”
“We rented a boat this morning. It’s in my girlfriend’s name Emily Klein. We left…”
“Let me get Mr. Montsweag,” she interrupted.
As Wilson waited on the line, he wondered what Carter was doing.
A few seconds later, a deep gruff voice came on the line. “Son, the police have been here looking for the two of you.”
Wilson’s heart sank as he looked around him in the pouring rain, trying to discern if anyone was watching. “What did they want?” Wilson asked, looking at his watch and trying to remember how long it took to trace a call. It had already been twenty seconds or so.
“Some kind of emergency at home. They didn’t say anymore than that.”
Wilson braced himself against the wall of the marina store to keep his balance and hung up the phone. Then, he called the number, again, “Sorry. I was cut off.”
“Where are you?” Montsweag said when he got on the line, again.
“We got stuck in the storm. We’re fifty miles north in Stonington.”
“Where you stayin?”
“Uh. Don’t know yet,” Wilson replied, attempting to keep his composure. “Probably at the Inn by the old Opera House.”
“Okay. Better call home, son. You can bring the boat back tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Mr. Montsweag,” Wilson said, panicking inside. He entered the marina store to get more quarters. As he looked around, nothing seemed out of place. Jaclyn was still behind the counter waiting on customers. When she got to Wilson, she asked, “How many nights are you planning to stay?”
“Can I let you know in the morning?” Wilson asked.
“Sure,” she said. “I need an imprint of your credit card.”
“I’ll pay cash. How much?”
“Off season rate is $89. With food and tax, it’s $122.41.”
Wilson gave her seven twenty-dollar bills and asked for the change in quarters. Luckily she had several rolls of quarters. She grabbed two and cracked them open.
Back at the pay phone, Wilson dialed Hap Greene’s emergency number and then deposited two dollars and fifty cents.
A woman’s voice answered, “Hello.”
“Who’s this?” Wilson asked, startled.
“Wilson? Is that you? This is Agent Kohl.”
“Where’s Hap?”
“We can’t talk on this phone. Call me back at 212-555-0004.”
Wilson hung up, dialed the new number, and deposited another two dollars and fifty cents.
Kohl’s voice came on the line, “Wilson?”
“Are you trying to trace this call?”
“No,” Kohl said. “As long as you’re safe…”
“Is my family safe?” Wilson said, interrupting her.
“Yes,” Kohl said.
Wilson heard the hesitation in her voice. “Where’s Hap?”
There was silence on the line.
“Where’s Hap?” Wilson repeated.
“He left this cell phone with a message that he’d be back soon. The agent who was with him is dead.”
“What happened?”
“There was a fire and explosions at your family’s Brattle Street residence earlier this morning. The firemen took care of it quickly. Your family is fine. A team of paramedics tried to kidnap your mother and niece. Hap Greene and the other agents stopped them. Your mother, your sister, and your niece were not harmed, just a little smoke inhalation. Your brother-in-law was wounded in the shoulder, but he’s doing fine. All of them are at Mount Auburn Hospital under heavy guard.”
“You said they were safe before. Are you sure they’re safe now?” Wilson asked, his voice cracking. He felt responsible for everything. And when his family needed him most, he was too far away to help.
“Yes,” Kohl said. “Let us bring you in, Wilson. We can protect you.”
“We’ll take our chances where we are. Just keep my family safe,” Wilson said, looking at his watch. Twenty seconds had passed. “Are you sure no one’s tracing this call?”
“Absolutely,” Kohl said. “This is my personal cell phone and everything on it is scrambled. I purposely don’t have caller ID and I’ve never used it to trace anyone. Trust me.”
“What about the compromised agents?” Wilson asked, deciding to believe her.
“We’ve identified all of them. The first one we found, an agent named Switzer, confessed to everything.”
“How many are there?”
“Eleven. Six from the FBI, two from the Justice Department, one CIA, one NSA, and one of Hap’s men.”
Wilson swallowed hard. “Tell me they’re in custody.”
“Five of them are still at large. Three FBI agents, the CIA operative, and Hap’s man.”
There was dead silence on the line as Wilson digested the information. “There are eight men following us,” he said.
“How…”
“Don’t ask. We saw them last in Boothbay Harbor. They’re driving a red Jeep Cherokee, a dark blue Ford Taurus, a beige Taurus, and a black, bullet-pocked Range Rover.”